


Promise me?

by Laughing_Fox



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Hopefully you'll be in tears by the end, If I did my job well, M/M, Personal interpretation, Sad, based off of canon, listen to the music, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 00:33:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8511856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laughing_Fox/pseuds/Laughing_Fox
Summary: Short retelling from Jean's perspective when he finds Marco leaning against the building.Based off of canon, but not really.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I highly recommend having this play in the background.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=flVl_UTezYQ

The taste of iron hung heavy in the air.  
Even through the cloth tied loosely over his nose, he still couldn't get away from the smell of blood.  
  
It was everywhere.  
In his hair, on his hands, splattered against the cobblestone pathways, pooled underneath the broken bodies of his friends.  
Everywhere.  
  
The woman behind him trailed along, clipboard in hand as she wrote down all of the words that found themselves tumbling out of Jean's mouth.  
 _What was the point of this?_  
  
Every time they'd stumble upon another half-eaten carcass of a person he once cared for, he'd lash out at her.  
 _'Why are we doing this?!'_  
  
But he never received an answer, only a cold, apathetic glare as she continued to scrawl down the names of the dead cadets around them.  
  
Jean felt broken.  
  
But he didn't yet know the meaning of 'broken'.  
  
Not until a chocked whisper clawed it's way from his throat.  
Not until his pale eyes landed on a form he hoped he'd never have to see.  
Not like this.  
  
The words came like a whisper, his throat dry and his eyes brimming with unshed tears.  
  
' _You're... Marco.'_  
  
Everything felt so surreal.  
 _It was like a nightmare caught in a dream._  
  
He shifted closer, his gloved hands gripping the collar of the teen before him.  
It couldn't be Marco.  
 _It couldn't.  
Marco promised.  
He _promised.  
  
They were supposed to stick together.  
They were supposed to get outside the walls.  
They were supposed to...  
... to live.  
  
Warm tears tracked clean lines down his dirt encrusted face as he felt himself ripping off the sanitary gloves from his arms, the yelling from the woman behind him muted as his fingers traced the freckles on Marco's face like a dot-to-dot puzzle, the skin clammy and lifeless beneath his fingertips.  
  
Blood slicked his fingers as hands clamped around his upper arms, pulling him away.  
  
His screams echoed into nothing as he was wrenched away, his hands still outstretched, desperate to cling to his friend, to find warmth in his smile, to get lost in his ramblings about the future and what they'd live to become.  
To see his face.  
To hear his voice.  
  
His arms fell from air as his legs gave way, hitting the ground hard, he curled into himself, fingers ensnared in his hair as he screamed.  
  
 _Marco, you promised we'd get out of this hell-hole._  
You promised we'd join the Military Police.  
We'd be safe.  
We'd be together.  
  
You promised.


End file.
